The Beauty in the Brute
by Starjargon
Summary: Belle is quite enchanted with her life in the castle, and now Gaston realizes he can't use his brawn to save her from the Beast, who will do anything good or bad to become human again. He'll just have to find a different approach to rescue Belle. Mostly one-sided Gaston/Belle; Belle/Beast. Based off a prompt on AO3.
1. The Beast Within

**A/N- Based off the prompt:**

_Prince Adam needed Belle to break the spell that enchantress had put on him and he'd do absolutely anything to become human again. Gaston is the go to man for various small tasks, who unintentionally comes off as overconfident. When Maurice approaches him to rescue his daughter, Gaston soon realizes that he'll need more than brute strength to return the girl to her family. Especially when that girl needs to be convinced that escaping with him - the one she constantly looks down on - is the only way she can leave the castle alive._

**Obviously this is an Alternate Universe. Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or any quotes found in this story. No infringement intended. No profit made from this work.  
**

**Due to the nature of this piece, this is not the story you think you know...**

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It had started, as many of these stories do, once upon a time. Once upon a time, there was a very handsome young prince named Adam, who had everything his heart could desire, but no love in that heart. And though he was surrounded by faithful and kind servants, he was cold and very selfish. One very bitter, stormy evening, a haggard beggar woman came to his door, begging shelter for the night in exchange for a single rose, asking him to look inside himself for kindness and sympathy. Pushing aside his servants, he looked out and saw only her hideous features. Arrogant in his own appearance and possessions, he turned her away without compassion or mercy.

Still, she warned him not to be blinded by wealth or splendor, for true riches and beauty come from love and respect. When he turned her out again, her wretched appearance faded away, and she transformed into a beautiful young sorceress. He tried to plead with her, but it was too late, for she had seen the monster within. As penalty for his crime, she cast upon him a spell, replacing his beauty on the outside with the hideousness of his heart. To show how his choices affected others, she placed a powerful curse on the entire castle and all who lived within, giving him the enchanted rose. If he could learn unconditional love, and accept it in return from another before the last petal fell, the rose would reveal the true beauty of the beholder. If not, he would surely remain a beast forever.

Horrified by his monstrous form, he shut himself up in his castle, despairing and giving up all hope of finding this great love, for who could ever _truly_ love a beast?


	2. A Day in the Life

Gaston took aim at the flock, hitting his target and watching it as it fell to the ground. Lefou ran, seizing his prize and stuffing it into his bag.

"Wow, Gaston, you must be the greatest hunter ever!"

"I know," replied the tall, muscular man. He was never one for false modesty, and there was a room full of trophies to prove his point.

Lefou gathered the rest of the game, tugging it along behind him as they made their way back to town. Lefou ran to the butchers to sell the stuffed bag, while Gaston looked up and spotted Belle, his face instantly brightening when he saw her as she made her way out of the small village.

Head in a book again. He heard whispers as he passed the townspeople, marking her peculiar and unsocial, but admittedly very beautiful. He did his best to ignore them, instead trying to reach the woman who had stolen his heart. He kept losing her in the crowd, stopped by his many admirers and clients who wished to fawn over him and to beg a moment of his time. By the time he spotted Belle on the outskirts, he had committed to thirteen new projects before the week's end.

Not wishing to be further delayed from the beautiful woman walking away, he ended up climbing over rooftops, sliding down at the end and striding up to her, taking the book from her hands- a sure-fire way to initiate a conversation with the focused reader.

"What are you reading?" he asked, incredulous as he quickly ran through the book.

"It's called _La Belle et la Bête_. It's my favourite book."

"Why is it your favourite? Does that mean you've read it before?" He was still flipping through it, wondering what could be special about a storybook that made Belle love it.

"Yes, several times. Not that you would understand, monsieur. It has these daring sword fights, a magic spell, even a charming prince in disguise. It's extraordinary."

"How can you read this? There aren't any pictures," he stated in confusion, trying to piece together the story from the little he heard and saw, yet failing completely.

"Well, some people can use their imaginations," she responded pointedly, grabbing the book out of his hands.

"Huh." He didn't think he had ever read something so big, but he knew Belle was smart. That was one of the things he loved about her.

"Well, enough about charming princes from pretend books. You should consider spending time with a real man. Like me," he preened, thinking on his morning hunt and how surely she would've been impressed.

"Like you?" He missed her incredulous look, taking it as encouragement to continue his current proposal instead.

"Yes, Belle! You can come watch me chop all the wood the bakery will use next week, then admire me as I raise a booth for the fish merchant, and you can wipe my sweaty brow when I fill in for the blacksmith, then I'll even let you sit in the wagon I'm pulling to the seamstress' house this evening."

"You will?" He remained oblivious to her disgusted tone and expression.

"And then tonight, you can watch me drink the bartender under the table before you rub my tired feet!"

She turned away from him, which was obviously an invitation for him to follow her. "Gaston, you are not only primitive, you are abhorrent and repulsive."

"Why thank you, Belle!" he responded, delighted to hear her compliments, even if he didn't entirely understand them. "So, we'll just go gather your things and you can follow me around all day."

"Actually, Gaston, I have to go home and help my father."

"Yeah, maybe you should help that loony old man!" exclaimed Lefou, finally catching up to Belle and Gaston.

"Haha! Loony old man indeed!" bellowed Gaston, remembering some of the trouble her father's 'inventions' had caused in the past.

"Don't talk that way about my father!" defended an angry Belle.

"Exactly- don't talk that way about her father," scolded Gaston, hitting Lefou on the head for insulting his girl.

"My father's a genius! Someday he's going to invent something that will change this dull, dreary, insignificant little town!"

And with that, she stormed off, in the direction of the smoke he now saw pouring from the house in the distance.


	3. That Gaston Fellow

That evening, instead of going to the tavern as previously planned, Gaston made his way over to Belle's house.

"These flowers are as beautiful- no, can't ever be as beautiful as- Belle. You are as beautiful as me. And so I brought you these flowers to start off our relationship full of beauty-"

He continued practicing his speech, finally pausing by the small pond outside her cottage to preen and to imagine and to admire the picture he and Belle would make together once she agreed to be his.

Once he made his way up the garden path, he heard Belle and her father talking inside.

"That Gaston. He's certainly a handsome fellow."

"Yes, he most definitely is." Gaston's chest puffed out just a bit more at hearing Belle praise him as highly as he always praised her to others. "He's also rude, and so conceited and brainless and... and boorish. Oh, Papa, I could never- he's not the one for me."

He paused at hearing these words, halting his hand abruptly, not allowing his fist to knock on the door.

_Oh,_ he thought. He didn't know all the words she had just used, but he understood enough of them. Enough to know Belle didn't think he was good enough for her. Not yet.

He stood still outside her doorstep, wondering what he'd done wrong. Was there someone else? No, of course not, he was the most capable, most handsome, bravest man in town. Then he thought about her words again, trying to make sense of them.

_Rude. Conceited. Boorish. Brainless._ He tried to think of when he had been rude to her. Come to think of it, he hadn't told her how beautiful they both were today. Conceited- well, now that he reflected, he hadn't returned her compliments when she had told him he was primitive and repulsive, and he supposed he should have told her she was abhorrent too. Now, if only he could figure out what boorish meant. Maybe it meant he was boring. He would have to show her how daring he could be, and a display of his muscles and strength surely could not go amiss. As for brainless, well, he knew he wasn't as smart as her- no one he knew was. He blamed those books of hers. They gave her ideas, then she began... well, _thinking._ It didn't seem right for women to read. Or men, but they usually at least had their strength to get by.

He stayed outside her door a moment longer, debating whether or not to give her the flowers anyway.

Then, he thought about the last part of her conversation. That he wasn't the one for her. And his heart sank. Because she was the one for him. The only one. She was the best person he knew, and he deserved her just as much as she deserved him.

He was dejected as he made his way back into town, tossing the flowers on the table like the unworthy offering they were. It seemed more than he could bear.

Lefou came up to him and asked him what had happened. When he explained that he had been rejected and felt completely humiliated, the entire town within the warm tavern walls came together to cheer him up.

"No one is as large and in charge like Gaston."

"No one can end a fight quite like Gaston."

"No one else is as roguish and manly."

"It's true I am quite the impressive specimen," he conceded, his spirits lifting as everyone listed all his wonderful qualities to him.

"Every man here in town want to be our Gaston."

"Oh what a great guy, Gaston!"

The townspeople's belief in him had done wonders for his self esteem, lifting it back up to the highest heights. Finally, his own brain began working, and he realized that was his problem with Belle. He hadn't impressed her enough yet. He smiled as he toasted once again, a plan in his head for tomorrow.


	4. Different Dreams

A week later he arrives at her house, larger than life. He is dressed in his best red coat, his hair slicked back and his britches washed just as thoroughly as his face. Lefou holds up a mirror to him, letting him preen at his perfect reflection, praising his magnificence. Gaston doesn't disagree- he _had_ rather outdone himself today.

Then he shoos him away as he raises himself up and confidently knocks on her door.

"Gaston," says Belle, with a hint of (pleasant, of course) surprise, "what are you doing here?"

"I came to ask you to come with me, I have something very special I want to show you."

"Gaston, my father and I-"

"It won't take long," he says, grabbing her hand eagerly and pulling her out the door.

They made their way across town, passing many seemingly- empty businesses.

"What's going on?" she asks, obviously filled with anticipation.

"Just you wait, Belle- this is your lucky day."

He drags her to the outskirts of the forest on the other side of the village, stopping in front of a large, half- isolated cottage.

He beams, standing her in front of the cottage, his hands on his lapels as he merely stares proudly at her reaction.

"What is this place?" she asks suspiciously, wondering at his pride in the empty lodge.

"This is our home," he announces grandly at last, flinging both arms out to demonstrate the magnificence he had created.

"Our what?"

"Where all your dreams will come true."

"And you know my dreams?"

"Of course! Here's our rustic little house, where I'll come home after a long day's work to our little ones playing on the floor with the faithful hounds- all six or seven of them- sons, that is. And you, my little wife, cooking dinner before washing my sweaty, hairy back while admiring the tales of my latest feats."

"What?" He drags her into the house, showing off this week's efforts.

"Gaston I- I don't know what to say."

"Ah! Speechless already! Excellent. Don't worry, Belle- I've arranged everything, of course. While I was building the lodge, the seamstress and tailor's wife arranged the wedding. Say you'll marry me and all this," once more he gestures to the walls around them in the trophy- laden dwelling, "will be yours."

"You _built this_?" she asks incredulously. Or impressed, he never could tell with her completely.

"But of course, Belle. Had to show you just what a capable man you were getting." He preens again, for her benefit this time.

"You expect me to just marry you?"

"Yes! The townspeople are right outside- almost everyone came to our wedding. There's even a band." He grins, quite pleased with himself that he had pulled all of this off.

"Before you even came and proposed to me?" He starts to hear just an ounce of irritation in her voice. Poor girl wasn't used to getting swept off her feet. He'd change that.

"Why, yes Belle. From the first time I met you, I said to Lefou, "I'll have Belle as my-"

"You'll _have_ me?" she asks, the irritation now unmistakeable for anger. "I am not a trophy, monsieur. Nor am I a prize or an animal to be hunted and placed on a mantel. And I don't deserve to be treated like one, and I don't deserve you!"

"Don't worry- you don't have to do anything-"

"You built all of this so quickly just to make a point? What, that you're... strong? Tough? Manly?"  
"I _am_ all those things," he says proudly, flexing his muscles. Though, he is confused why she's looking at him like that. He proved his virility by building a cottage for them by hand. And he'd shown his providence by arranging her dream wedding. Yet still, she storms out furiously, not even noticing the entire village awaiting the celebrations in back.

"What's wrong, Belle?" he asks, truly mystified by her baffling reactions to his grand gestures.

"You, Gaston! You did all of this, just to prove-" she sighs, then looks up at him, still annoyed yet with a small amount of pity as well, before explaining, "You can't just muscle your way into or out of everything you know. The world doesn't always work like that."

"How else does it work?" he wracks his brain, as best he can, for a situation where his strength and muscles hadn't worked in his favour, or hadn't fixed everything.

She doesn't even bother stopping as she shakes her head, storming away from the simple, provincial life he offered. "You have a mind, I'm sure. Use it."


	5. Not Always for the Best

**A/N- Whoo- I just realized how long I've kept you poor readers dangling! My deepest apologies~ Here's a short chapter, where things really start to veer away from the movie a bit, but this scene is essential to my ultimate plan. Don't worry, they'll get to the castle soon enough. Enjoy!**

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When he thanks everyone for their attendance and told them the wedding is off, the cobbler and his wife pat him sympathetically on the shoulder, cheering him up. The cobbler tells him how he had to ask his bride three times before she finally agreed to marry him, and if Gaston truly believed Belle was the one for him, she was worth any effort he had to make to convince her of the same thing.

Encouraged, he once more makes his way to Belle's cottage, where he overhears her sharing her dreams and frustrations with the animals she's currently tending.

"He actually called me a 'little wife!' Can't you just _see_ it? Madame Gaston! No sir- not for me! I'll not be caged to this small, boring living - I promise you that! All the great wide world out there- I want it and all the amazing that I could imagine. I want more than what they all have planned. I've dreamed so much bigger than just _this_. And," she continued, leading Philippe, her horse, to the small stream near her house, "I think it might be...wonderful to have someone accept and to truly understand me."

Gaston came up behind her, a small confident smile lighting his face as the sky suddenly burst with colour. He tentatively came up to her, standing beside her and watching as the sun began to set.

"I think I _do _understand you, Belle. And, I want us to have the greatest life either of us could imagine, or dream. That's why... I did what I did. I want you with me, always. You're such a beautiful woman. The best. Everything I deserve and perhaps even more," he assured her with an assertive nod of his head.

She toyed with the grass, finally looking up at him in irritation, yet not pushing him away, so he took this as a sign to sit next to her. She huffed, silently picking at a dandelion, before she turned to him at last, resignation and a long-suffering expression on her face.

"And why are you so convinced you deserve the best, Gaston?" Had he been able to understand her agitation better, he would have picked up on the slightly patronizing and annoyed tone she was using, fed up as she was of his pride and self-centred outlook on life. As it was, he took the question to heart.

"Doesn't everyone?" he answered plainly. "Whatever their best is- they deserve it. And you're mine."

"If I were _really_ yours, you would have recognized that I deserve more than this provincial life. I want... adventure. I want magic and fairy tales and..._ more_ than being confined to everyone's expectations. I feel suffocated under everyone else's ideas of how my life should be. I don't want- I promise you, monsieur, I'll not be anyone's _little_ _wife_, simply because they admire my beauty and expect dinner on the table every night, nothing extraordinary ever happening or changing. I don't want to settle for the same routine every day. I want a life far more exciting than even I could imagine."

He looked at her, _finally _realizing where he had gone wrong.

"I want the best for you, Belle. Truly. But I don't know any fairy tales or magic spells. This life is all I've ever known. I don't know what else you could want. We could live here forever. I'll be your big strong hunter and you'll be my quaint, beautiful homemaker. We'd have a charming lifetime together."

She looked at his profile again, huffing in resignation when she realized he simply couldn't understand, even as she saw his face scrunched up in concentration, doing his best to think. Then she sighed, deciding she needed to stop this before it went any farther.

"And that, Gaston, is why you're _not_ my best."

He looked up at that, his masculine pride wounded. His brow furrowed, and his jaw set stubbornly as he rose, decision firm in his mind.

"You're wrong about that, Belle. And I'm going to convince you that you are wrong. You'll see."

And with that declaration, he walked back to town, determined to think of a plan.


	6. No Beast or No Belle?

Gaston is excited when he makes his way to Belle's house. He hadn't seen her in a while, but he figures she was busy with her father, and of course, pondering his proposal. Maybe she'd even been thinking about how right they could be together. The proud smile shines bright on his face as he hurries to tell her his news. However, when he gets there, he sees her cottage is quite empty.

Making his way around, he looks in all the windows, noticing all the animals seemed to be in a state. He quickly located their feed, distributing it to each as quickly as possible, wondering slightly at their seeming abandonment. When he goes back to the house, he decides to investigate, so he, tenderly, breaks the door down. He could fix it later.

At first, it seems like nothing is out of place, but wrong- as though they hadn't meant to leave. He looks around for a bit, before his eyes fall to a piece of paper on the ground. It seems to be a letter regarding an entry at a fair. Ah! Crazy old Maur- The... _genius_ who was Belle's father had obviously invented another gadget whatchamacallit to enter into a fair. Well, that explained the abandoned look of the place. He had probably forgotten to close up properly and to ask anyone to keep his small farm while they were away.

Gaston smiled to himself, happy to have found yet another way he could prove himself to Belle. He closed up the house, tidying up as best he knew how, and fixing the door back in its place. Then he patched the fence around the livestock, making sure everything was secure against predators. Undaunted by their absence, he went back into town, grinning as he imagined Belle's appreciation for his thoughtfulness. He could tell her the news when she got back.

Days pass, then a couple of weeks, and Gaston faithfully maintains his charge, thinking of how impressed Belle would be of him, and how his maintenance on her house would surely convince her of how able he would be in their own. At the end of the first month, with still no sign of Belle or Maurice, he begins to worry. Still, he assures himself, they'll come back. He was here, waiting for her, and was confident she would see how no one and nothing else could compare to the two of them together.

He goes to the tavern, losing his worries amidst his friends and admirers. He confides in everyone the mystery of Belle's disappearance, and Lefou reassures him she's probably off with her crazy father still. The townspeople are all laughing and singing, losing themselves in merriment as they gather together against the frost that has fallen upon the land.

They're just about to start their own makeshift dance, when the door bangs open. And Maurice rushes in. Alone.

"Help! I need your help!" he screeches, running around anxiously as he grabs everyone he sees. "Please, help me!" he pleads, tugging on the arms of various patrons.

"Maurice?!" exclaims Gaston, astonished that they were back and Belle hadn't come to find him yet.

"He's got her- she's locked in a dungeon. Please, you all have to help me!"

"Who's what?" asked the tailor.

"Belle- he's holding her prisoner! Come on, we've got to go get her!"

"Whoa- hold on there, Maurice. Who's holding Belle prisoner?"

"He's a beast! A monstrosity, a horrid terrible creature!"

"Who?"

"The Beast!" he repeats, lifting his arms in imitation.

The entire tavern collapses into momentary silence, realizing he was describing a literal monster. Then, everyone bursts out laughing.

"Ah- a large beast?" jokes the ironsmith.

"Enormous!" he continues ranting.

"Does he have claws?"

"Like daggers!"

"And deadly fangs?"

"That can tear a tree trunk!"

"Is he ugly?"

"Indescribably so! Will you help me?" he asks, finally falling at the feet of a very amused Gaston.

"Of course, Maurice," he laughs, deciding to play into the old man's joke. "We'll go retrieve Belle from the indescribably ugly, enormous, deadly beast that's keeping her prisoner in his dungeon."

"You will?" he asks hopefully.

"Sure! He's just outside," remarks the tanner, as he, a merchant, and the tailor all led Maurice out the door, chuckling once they shut it firmly behind him.

"That crazy old man!"

"Oh, that was just fun."

Gaston chuckles, thinking of the delusional inventor who'd just left. Then he sits by the fire quietly, pondering.

"Lefou!" he calls his best friend over.

"Yeah?"

"I've been thinking."

"Careful."

"I will," he assures him, "it's just that- that mad old coot is Belle's father."

"I know- too bad it's not all right up here," Lefou responds, twirling his finger around near his head.

"Well, that's it. Wherever he came from, he left Belle behind."

"You don't actually believe...?"

"Of _course_ not," he responds with a smile, "but she's not here. Which... I think means... she's somewhere else."

"That's true!" exclaims his friend in realization and agreement.

"Where?"

"What?"

"If she's not here- and she's not with Maurice, where is she?"

The townspeople had begun listening by this point, and now most of them began to wonder the same thing. They all sat at their tables, heads in their hands, and thought about it.

"I'm going to go after him," declares Gaston, when no answer had come forth. "We can't leave Belle's safety to that looney old man."

As he gets up, everyone mumbles their agreement, praising Gaston's bravery and intelligence, and agreeing with his assessment as they cheer him on to go find Belle.


	7. Mounting a Rescue

When Gaston finds Maurice, he's dressed in a ridiculous get up, ordinary household products working as makeshift armour. He's leaving his small cottage, determined to rescue his daughter from "the beast" that apparently has her captive. Gaston stops him, assuring him he will find Belle and bring her home safely. He shoots Lefou a look that indicates he still believes Maurice is crazy, but he'll humour the old man for Belle's sake. He asks Maurice where he last saw Belle, figuring he could at least get an idea where to start his search.

Maurice claims he went to the fair alone, getting lost in the woods when he came upon an impossible castle, full of enchantments and danger and a monster who imprisons those who enter. Belle somehow found the castle and traded her freedom for his, and now he needs to go back and rescue her. Gaston is slightly worried at this, knowing Belle's selfless character would indeed lead her to sacrificing herself somehow, and if such fantastical things as Maurice describes were actually possible, she would no doubt ask the creature to take her instead. He leaves Lefou on guard, staying with Maurice until Gaston can really discover Belle's true whereabouts, as he sets out on his journey.

He takes his trusty gun with him, and goes off into the forest, utilizing all his years of hunting in his search for his beloved Belle, hoping whatever her real situation was, he would find her in time to save her. He travels for days, searching and scouting any clues to where she went, when one day, he comes upon Philippe, who is crazed and clearly frightened, whinnying and jerking every which way in panic. Once he's able to calm the beast down enough to approach him, he gently pets him, checking him for any signs of injury or harm. Finding none, and seeing the terror that nearly paralyzes the horse at the sound of a wolf's howl, he suddenly realizes what happened.

His Belle had indeed gone in search of her father, but the dangers of the forest set her off course, and with no shelter or defence against the creatures that lurked in the forest nor aid against the frightened actions of her horse, she had been separated and cut off from any help or rescue. His heart ached at imagining the terror she must have gone through when she found herself alone, exposed to the elements, and utterly, utterly lost. He climbs up onto Philippe, shushing and soothing the scared animal against the noises of the dangers around them. Belle is not lost forever- he knows it deep in his bones.

After a few more days of searching, yet refusing to lose heart, he's goes down yet another path, anger at the forest that separated his beautiful Belle from the safety of his care, and determined to defeat this worthy opponent. He's about to growl back at the wolves that dare threaten him in the shadows, raising his gun in defence, when he feels Philippe suddenly jerk to a stop, halted and pawing restlessly at the ground. Gaston, a fierce scowl on his face, turns to chastise the creature, and stops when he sees what caused the animal to stop.

He gapes as he looks up at Crazy Old Maurice's castle, standing there and every bit as daunting as the old man had described it.

Gaston dismounts, leading Philippe by the harness closer to the gate in front of which they'd stopped, before pulling at it, demanding entrance. When it refuses to budge, he grabs the iron in his fists and grunts as he bends it to his will. The gate swings open, the lock broken into pieces as Gaston leads Philippe and walks menacingly toward the castle and whatever held Belle hostage.


End file.
